by Robert Reed
The detective shook his head .
“Nothing,” he said, “that is, nothing worth while . The gang is un-
reachable—the people who can give information are dumb brutes;
they are either afraid, or in league with the ‘Red Hand .’ I’ve tried
threatening them; I’ve tried bribing them; neither is of the least use .”
Tillizini laughed softly .
“And the ‘Red Hand’—have they made any further move?”
The detective’s hand went to his pocket . He drew forth a bundle
of papers enclosed in an elastic band . From this he extracted a letter .
“This has been addressed to the Sa’ Remo Ambassador,” he said .
“I won’t trouble to read it to you; it is the usual sort of thing . Only
this time it is a child who is threatened .”
“A child!”
Tillizini’s black brows met in an ugly frown . “That is their prin-
cipal card,” he said slowly, “I wondered how long they would keep
their hands off the children; what does he threaten, our unknown?”
“Abduction first—murder afterwards, if the abduction fails.”
Tillizini took the letter from the other’s hand and read it carefully .
He held the paper to the light .
“This is the American gang—I thought we’d wiped them out, but
it was evidently a bigger organization than I credited .”
The musical little bell rang overhead . Tillizini raised his eyes,
listening . After the shortest interval the bell rang again .
The professor nodded . A big black box stood at one corner of the
table—he unlocked it, the detective watching him curiously . With
the turning of the key and the lifting of the lid, the front fell away,
revealing three sedate rows of crystal phials .
Tillizini took one from the front, slipped it in his pocket, then
bent down and pressed the bell in the table .
The door opened to admit a servant, followed by a fresh-coloured
young man evidently of the working class . Crocks looked at him,
saw he was an Englishman, and wondered in what way the two men
had become acquainted . The young man accepted a seat at the invi-
tation of Tillizini .
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“Well, my friend,” said the professor pleasantly, “you are willing
to go on with this matter?”
“Yes sir,” said the other, firmly.
Tillizini nodded .
“I got your message,” he said . He turned to the detective .
“This man’s name is Carter,” he said briefly; “he is an out-of-
work plumber, unmarried, without family, and prepared to take
risks . You have been in the army, I think?” he said .
The newcomer nodded . He sat uneasily on the edge of his chair
as though unused to good society, and with obvious embarrassment .
“I advertised,” Tillizini went on, “for a man who was willing to
risk his life; I’m paying him two hundred pounds, and he is earning
it .”Crocks was mystified.
“Exactly what does he do?” he asked .
“That,” said Tillizini, with a slow smile, “is exactly what he does
not know .”
He turned to the other man, who grinned sheepishly .
“I carry out instructions,” he said, “and I’ve had a hundred
pounds .”
“Lucid enough, Mr . Crocks; he does nothing except live in a
lodging in Soho, make his way to a wharf over there,” he pointed
out of the window, “every evening at about this hour, signal to me
a fairly unintelligible message, and afterwards walk slowly across
Westminster Bridge, along the Embankment, up Vilhers Street, and
so to my house .”
He paced the room with long swinging strides .
“He has taken his life in his hands, and he knows it,” he said . “I
have told him that he will probably be assassinated, but that does
not deter him .”
“In these hard times,” said the soldier, “a little thing like that
doesn’t worry you; it is better to be assassinated than to be starved
to death, and I have been out of work for twelve months until Mr .
Tillizini gave me this job .”
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“He receives two hundred pounds,” Tillizini went on, “by con-
tract . I have paid him one hundred, I shall pay him another hundred
to-night and his expenses . Probably,” he said, with a little smile, “he
may escape with minor injuries, in which case I shall congratulate
him heartily .”
He turned briskly to the man .
“Now let me have all the papers you have got in that pocket . Put
them on the table .”
The man dived into his various pockets and produced scraps of
paper, memorandum, pocket-books—all the literary paraphernalia
of his class .
From his pocket Tillizini took the phial he had removed from the
medicine chest. He unstoppered it, and a pungent, sickly odour filled
the room . With the moist tip of the stopper he touched each article
the man had laid on the table .
“You will get used to the smell,” he said, with a smile; “you won’t
notice it after a while .”
“What is it?” asked Crocks, curiously .
“You will be surprised when I tell you,” said the other . “It is
double distilled attar of roses, the vilest smell in the world in its
present stage, and this bottle I have in my hand is worth commer-
cially, twenty-five pounds.”
At a nod from Tillizini, Carter gathered up his papers and re-
placed them in his pockets .
“You have a revolver?” asked the professor .
“Yes, sir,” replied the man . “I’m just getting used to it . I don’t
understand these automatic pistols, but I went down to Wembley the
other day and had some practice .”
“I hope that no occasion will arise for you to have practice nearer
at hand,” said Tillizini, dryly .
He rang the bell, and the servant came .
“Get Mr . Carter some supper,” he ordered . He nodded to the man
as he left .
“What is the meaning of this?” asked Crocks .
“That you shall see,” said the other .
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“But I don’t understand,” said the bewildered detective . “Why
should you give this man so large a sum to do nothing more than
send electric signals to you every evening?”
Tillizini sat down at his desk .
“Mr . Crocks,” he said, “it would be false modesty on my part if I
pretended that my movements escape the notice of the ‘Red Hand .’
I am perfectly satisfied in my own mind that I do not go in or out of
this house without the organization being aware of the fact . Every
step I take is watched; every action of mine is considered in the light
of a possible menace to the society .
“This society knows that every evening I am engaged in the ex-
change of messages with a man south of the Thames . The very mys-
teriousness will naturally appeal to the Latin temperament, and its
significance will be magnified. On the second night you may be sure
that Carter was located . You ma
y also be sure that he was watched
from the wharf and followed to this house .”
A light began to dawn upon the detective . “Then Carter is a de-
coy?”
“A two hundred pound decoy,” said the other, gravely . “He knows
the risk, I am paying him a big sum; fortunately he is something of a
signaller, and so he is able to tell me through a code of our own what
is happening on the other side of the river . I freely admit,” he smiled,
“that so far nothing has happened worth recording .”
“They will kill him,” said Crocks .
“They will try,” said the other quietly; “he is a pretty resource-
ful man, I think . I am hoping that nothing worse will happen than
that they will seek a gentler method of solving the mystery which
surrounds him . Hallo!” The door was thrust open suddenly, and the
servant flew in.
“I’m very sorry, sir——” he stammered .
“What’s the matter?” Tillizini was on his feet . “Is it Carter?”
“No, sir—he’s in the kitchen . I heard a ring at the bell, and the
girl”—he went on incoherently—“a girl sort of fell in . What am I to
do, sir?”
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“Fell in?” Tillizini stepped quickly past him, and went down the
broad stairs, two at a time, to the hall .
The man had had sufficient presence of mind to close the door
after the strange visitor’s appearance .
Lying on the carpeted floor of the hall was the form of a woman.
Tillizini, practised as he was in every subtle move of the gang,
stepped forward cautiously . She lay under an overhanging light, and
he was able to see her face . He lifted her and walked quickly back
up the stairs with his burden .
Crocks was standing in the doorway of the room .
“What is it?” he asked .
Tillizini made no reply. He carried the limp figure and laid it on
the settee by the wall .
“What happened?” he asked the man shortly .
“I heard the bell ring, sir,” said the agitated servant, “and I went
to the door thinking it was—”
“Never mind all that—be brief,” said Tillizini .
“Well, I opened the door, sir, and she must have fainted against
it . I’d just time to catch her and to drag her into the hall before she
went off .”
“Did you see anybody outside?”
“No, sir,” said the man .
“You closed the door behind you, I see,” said Tillizini approv-
ingly . “Really, I shall make something of you, Thomas .”
From his medicine case he took a slender phial, removed the stop-
per, and wetted the tip of his finger with the contents. He brushed
this along the lips of the unconscious girl .
“She has only fainted,” he said, while with a quick, deft hand
he felt the pulse, and his sensitive fingers pressed the neck ever so
slightly .
The drug he had given her had a marvellously rapid effect .
She opened her eyes almost immediately and looked round . Then
she caught sight of Tillizini’s face .
“Don’t try to speak,” he said, gently . “Just wait . I will get you a
little wine, though I don’t think you will require it .”
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She tried to sit up, but his firm hand restrained her.
“Lie quietly for a little while,” he said . “This gentleman is a de-
tective from Scotland Yard . You need have no fear .”
“Are you Dr . Tillizini?” she asked .
He nodded .
“My husband—you’ve seen him?” she whispered .
Tillizini nodded again .
“Yes, yes . He was the man who was sentenced at Burboro’ .”
A look of pain passed across the white-faced girl .
“Yes, he was sentenced,” she said, weakly . “He was innocent, but
he was sentenced .” Tears welled into her eyes .
Tillizini had the narrow blue phial in the palm of his hand . Again
he tilted it, and again the tip of his little finger swept across the lips
of the girl . She knit her brows .
“What is that?” she said . “It is very sweet stuff .”
The professor smiled .
“Yes, it is very sweet, my child,” he said, “but it will do you a lot
of good .”
His prediction was verified, for in a few minutes she sat up—
calm and collected .
“I heard you had been to see my husband,” she said . “I wanted
to talk to you, but you had gone; and then I thought I would write to
you, and I was starting my letter when a gentleman came .”
“Which gentleman?” asked Tillizini .
“The Italian gentleman,” she replied—“the one my husband said
had asked him to go to Highlawn . Oh, I knew it wasn’t true that he
burgled Sir Ralph . Poor as we were, he would never have done such
a thing .”
Tillizini nodded, he raised his hand with a reproving little smile .
“Yes, the Italian came, and what did he want?”
She was calm again .
“He gave me some money,” said the girl, “and told me that he
would see that my husband was released, and I was so grateful be-
cause I felt so sure that he would go to Sir Ralph and tell him, and
George would be let out of gaol .”
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She was little more than a child, and the men who listened were
too full of pity to smile at her naive conception of Sir Ralph’s power .
“And then,” she went on, “he asked me a dreadful thing .”
She shuddered at the thought .
“He asked me to do that for which my husband was convicted .”
“To go to the house?”
“Yes,” she nodded .
“And to take a package?”
Again the girl nodded .
“And you were to do this on Friday night?”
His eyes were blazing with excitement .
“Yes,” she said . “How do you know?”
A little look of fear came into her face . She was out of her depth
in these plots and machinations, this simple country girl, who had
entered into the responsibilities and trials of marriage at an age when
most girls were at school .
“I know,” said Tillizini .
He walked up and down the apartment, his hands thrust in his
pockets, his head bent .
“You won’t be able to do it now . They’ve watched you come up
here; I suppose that’s why you came to me?”
“Yes,” she said . “I am so afraid of these men . We are quiet coun-
try folk . We have never been mixed up in anything like this .”
Tillizini considered a moment; then he took down the telephone
receiver and gave a number . He had a brief conversation with some-
body in Italian and he spoke with an air of authority . He hung the
receiver up again .
“I have telephoned for a lady to come here to take you to her
house,” he said . “I don’t think these people will bother you at all,
because you know nothing which can possibly affect them one way
or the other . I suppose,” he said, turning to Crocks, “that you can
give me a couple of m
en to look after this girl till she reaches the
house where I am sending her?”
Crocks nodded .
“I’ll take her myself,” he said, jovially . “I am worth two men .”
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Tillizini smiled .
“I sometimes think,” he said, “that you are worth three . The one
you are, the one you can be, and the one you never appear to be!”
Crocks chuckled .
CHAPTER VI
THE THREE
If you walk from London Bridge along Tooley Street, through
Rotherhithe, you come to Lower Deptford . Passing through this, you
reach Deptford proper, and leading off from the left you will find a
long straight road which crosses the Ravensbourne, and connects
Greenwich—the one quaint corner of London which steadfastly
refuses to be entirely modernized—with its more busy neighbour .
The connecting road once accommodated the well-to-do middle
class of Deptford, in the days when Deptford was a prosperous port,
and when swarthy seafaring men with gold ear-rings recalled the
brave days when the Great Peter himself worked in the shipyard and
lived in a piggish fashion at Evelyn House .
The houses are narrow-fronted and of a set pattern . There are
overhanging wooden canopies to each of the doors; in some one
finds traces of oak panelling, but usually the present-day tenants
have utilized such of the wood as they can detach for the purpose
of lighting their fires. For what was once Deptford’s glory is now
Deptford’s slum . The great houses ring with the shrill voices of in-
numerable children. Floor after floor is let out in tenements, and in
some cases a dozen families occupy the restricted space which, in
olden times, barely sufficed to accommodate the progeny of opulent
ship chandlers .
When Mill Lane was Rowtonized, its hovels, its insanitary dens
and its quaint little cottages pulled down by a wise borough archi-
tect, the Italian colony which had made its home in that unsalubri-
ous neighbourhood moved northward and distributed itself along
the road of ancient respectability .
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In the main the Italian made a good neighbour, quiet, sober, in-
offensive; his piano-organ stalled in the confined area of the back
yard, was, perhaps, a nuisance to men who loved to sleep far into the
morning, but he gave little offence otherwise .
In one of these houses, on an upper floor, three men were sitting